The White Lady of Gondor
by Damia
Summary: StargateLoTRs crossover. [SJ] [[Part 2 of 2 in series]] Updated 24th May! When you find yourself stuck in a world that is not your own, you realise you are duty bound to help new friends protect theirs.
1. The Second Beginning

"The White Lady of Gondor" [Part One]  
  
This is the concluding story in the "White Lady" series, which started in "The White lady of i'Hísië".  
  
*****  
  
Author: Damia  
  
Email: Damia_1@hotmail.com  
  
Pairing: Sam/Jack. Other/Other  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own anything Stargate SG-1! Also, don't own anything Lord of the Rings!! (Sadly!).  
  
Season: "The White Lady of i'Hísië" was introduced five years before the Council of Elrond. "Gondor" take off four years later, in the year 3018 TA.  
  
Summery: When you find yourself in a world that is not your own, you realise you are duty bound to help new friends protect theirs.  
  
Notes: To my calculations, Sam arrives in Middle-Earth in the year, 3013 of the Third Age, five years before Council of Elrond, which is in October, 3018.  
  
Translation: The Elvish translation for "Gilly", the nickname Sam gives her daughter, is "Young". Rather appropriate, I reckon.  
  
* * *  
  
"And what of your companions? What about Legolas and me?" cried Gimli, unable to contain himself longer. "You rascals, you woolly-footed and wool- pated truants! A fine hunt you have led us! Two hundred leagues, through fen and forest, battle and death, to rescue you! And here we find you feasting and idling - and smoking! Smoking! Where did you come by the weed, you villains? Hammer and tongs! I am so torn between rage and joy, that if I do not burst, it will be a marvel!"  
  
- "You speak for me, Gimli," laughed Legolas. "Though I would sooner learn how they came by the wine."  
  
Gimli and Legolas, to the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin at the ruin gates of Isengard, [The Two Towers]  
  
* * *  
  
Four Years Passed...February, 3018 TA. Eight months prior to the Council of Elrond.  
  
The little girl sat on the stool, her short legs dangling off the edge with every trace of obvious impatience. Her hands were folded on her lap under the table, but at the same time twisting themselves through the sunshine yellow material of her dress.  
  
Across the other side of the table the little girl's mother sat silently, outwardly calm and serene but feeling a smile threaten to break out on her face as she discretely watched her daughter from under long dark lashes. Lifting the fork from her plate up to her mouth, she could feel the blue eyes on her, openly watching and studying her movements, filing them away for future reference.  
  
Sam knew Gilrean was just about to burst with anticipation but she wondered idly how much more it would take for the proud little four year old to beg. Swallowing the last trace of her lunch, Sam slowly put her fork down and only then turned to her daughter, eyebrows raised.  
  
Instantly, Gilrean's small shoulder's drooped as she read the reprimand in her mother's identical eyes. Lowering her head for a second, causing blonde curls to fall over her shoulders, it would have been obvious to anyone that she was regrouping. Sure enough, when Gilrean lifted her head, her eyes were wide and engaging, and remembering how often her family chastised her for it, she straightened her back slightly in her chair.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ma. Truly I am." The young voice was never quite a whine, but it grated on Sam's nerves all the same. But Gilrean never seemed to notice this, for she leaned forward in her chair slightly and reached up to clutch the tablecloth in both tiny fists.  
  
"I never meant to tell them anything, but you know what they're like! They just kept on asking and asking and I couldn't help myself! It just all came out!" If Sam hadn't been looking closely enough, she would have missed the fury that suddenly sprang up in Gilrean's eyes all together, but it was lucky that she had been watching for as she saw it, and gave a sigh, knowing that the girl had won her over once again.  
  
"Gilly, I specifically remember Galadriel instructing you not to tell a single soul about mine and Gandalf's trip." Sam told her daughter in a gentle tone, sensing that the girl had beaten herself up enough over her slip and didn't need her mother adding to her misery.  
  
Instantly, Gilrean jerked up straighter in her chair and a frown of indignation appeared on her fair face. "But I didn't tell anyone, Ma, I swear!" she cried. But when Sam cocked her head to the side and stared across at her, eyebrows still raised, the little girl slumped back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest with a thump.  
  
"Rúmil and Orophin don't count. They were going to find out anyway." the blonde girl muttered to her chest, her head firmly lowered.  
  
Grinning now, Sam too, leaned back in her chair, pushing the plate away from her in the process as she studied the pretty child across from her. Yes, she admitted, Haldir and his two brothers' would have learned of the planned journey her and Gandalf would be leaving on in little over a week, but the simple truth of it was that it hadn't been Gilrean's place to tell them about it. Galadriel and Celeborn, knowing the trouble the girl had with keeping anything she heard behind closed doors a secret, had firmly told her to tell no one, but it seemed that she had slipped up once again.  
  
Personally, Sam wasn't to bothered with her daughter's mastake. She knew how close she was to the three elvish warriors, and thinking back to when she herself had been a child, she had to admit if she had heard such exciting news she would have wanted to run out and tell the first person she had laid eyes on.  
  
"Can't I come to the Shire with you, Ma?" Gilrean asked, not for the first time, from across the table. Looking up, Sam saw her fair eyes were full of eager excitement, as if she found the thought of travelling over countryside on the back of a horse for two weeks the most exciting thing she had ever heard. Although, Sam had to admit that even if the means of travel might not have been her cup of tea, the actual idea of the journey itself sent shivers of excitement down her back every time she thought about it.  
  
It would be her first time to the Shire, and even with all Gandalf and Aragorn had told her over the past four years, she still failed the imagine what it would be like. Even now, she still unconsciously imagined pictures she had seen in Daniel's books back on Earth of mythological dwarfs whenever the Hobbits were mentioned, even though she had been told over and over again that they looked completely human, only smaller. And with lots of furry feet and curly hair, apparently.  
  
But to be honest, it was the thought of finally meeting Gandalf's little friend, the infamous Frodo Baggins, that was making her look forward to this journey more than anything. She had heard much about the young Hobbit from a great many different sources, some obviously more reliable than others. Not only was Gandalf happy to share many a tale of his little friend's adventures and would probably be quite willing to sit and praise his virtues from dusk till dawn, Sam had found that Frodo's fame had spread far beyond that of the old wizard. It seemed that most if not all of the elves of Lothlórien knew of Frodo in some way, even thought Sam knew for sure that the Hobbit had never ventured as far as Lothlórien, or even Rivendell.  
  
But it wasn't until Sam had tried to settle her curiosity of the matter by asking Arwen, when her elvish friend had made one of her many journey's to Lorien to see her grandparents, Sam and Gilrean, that she had found that Frodo did in fact have one very vital link to the elvish world in the form of his uncle, Bilbo.  
  
As Sam had listened, fascinated, Arwen had explained to the young human that Bilbo in fact lived in her father's house and was treated and held with great esteem and respect by Elrond and his household, not just for his adventures and friendship with Gandalf, but for his long and trusted relationship with the elves.  
  
Sam found it ironic that even though matters of adventure and danger had now passed Bilbo by, and he was now able to live out the remainder of his long life in the comforts of Rivendell, it was through him that his nephew would soon be thrust into the most dangerous situation of his life, if what Gandalf suspected was true.  
  
And it was that thought that brought Sam back to the present and she blinked across at the table at her young daughter, who was staring back at her, waiting for her answer.  
  
Sighing deeply, Sam gracefully reached down for the napkin on her lap and placed it on the table next to her now empty plate. Cocking her head to the side, she smiled over at Gilrean's impatient little face, and was struck not for the first time by her resemblance to Jack. While she might be as fair as a dove in complexion, and her blonde hair was obviously from the Carter side of the family, there were times, usually when she was upset or angry, that Sam would have sworn Jack O'Neill was staring back at her, instead of the daughter he had not set eyes on for four years.  
  
Feeling the familiar shiver snake down her back at the thought, Sam brought her elbows up on the table and rested her chin in her hands, a casual gesture that made the side of Gilrean's mouth twitch. "You know you can't, hen," she told the little girl gently, not wanting to upset her. "Gandalf was right when he told you the journey would be much to dangerous for little girls."  
  
But this only caused Gilrean's mouth to tighten and her little chin to stick out stubbornly. "But Ma, I've gone with you and Mithrandir on your trips before, so why not now?"  
  
Sam's answer stuck in her throat as it always did at hearing her daughter refer to the Grey Wanderer by his elvish name. Never, even as a baby who had just learned to talk, had she called the wizard by his most common name, even though Gandalf was much easier for a little girl to pronounce than Mithrandir. Instead, she had stubbornly refused to call him anything at all until she could properly say the elvish name with no faults.  
  
Sam had wisely never brought up the matter with her daughter, but hearing it always made her realise just how influential the elvish way of life was being on her upbringing. Sam, herself, had never called her dear friend anything but Gandalf, yet from listening to the elves around her, Gilrean had made her own mind up on the matter of how to refer to the wizard, who was by far the most prominent male figure in her life.  
  
It would have been obvious to anyone that the little girl considered herself to be far more elvish than human, and to realise it always made her mother sad.  
  
"I know you have, hen. But Minas Tirith and Rivendell are much safer at the moment than the Shire is.even though that hardly makes any sense," she added as an afterthought, flicking her eyebrows up with a shrug.  
  
"You will be fine here in Lorien, Gilly, you know you will. And we'll be back before you even realise we're gone." Sam smiled across at Gilrean, trying to lift her spirits, but realising it was a wasted effort, she just sighed and dropped her hands.  
  
Flicking a causal look in the direction of the window, she saw the position of the sun through the trees realised with a jolt that they had been sitting at the table for over an hour. Getting up, she skilfully manoeuvred the folds of her dress with one hand, came around the table and got down on her knees beside her daughter's chair, causing the little girl to turn to her in surprise.  
  
"I know you were looking forward to meeting Frodo, hen, but it really is too dangerous for you to come with us, you must understand that." Reaching up, she lovingly brushed a curly lock of golden hair away from her daughter's fair face and cupped her cheek.  
  
"And besides," she added teasingly, seeing the little girl's mouth begin to wobble as tears threatened. "If you come with us, who's going to stay here and look after the special Ranger who's going to arrive in a few days?"  
  
Seeing she had struck the right cord by the way Gilrean's blue eyes flew open wide in excited surprise, Sam added in a mock-serious tone, "You know very well that when the said Ranger arrives in Lorien he always needs lots of attention and care, after travelling as much as he does."  
  
Gilrean's eyes were daring to hope as she leaned forward so that their noses were touching and reached up to grab both her mother's ears in her small hands to keep her head still. Sam didn't blink as Gilrean's identical eyes peered into hers, even though the surge of love she felt for the little girl was so powerful that it threatened to bring tears to her eyes.  
  
"Oh, Ma, really?" Gilrean breathed, all thought of the journey forgotten for the moment as she contemplated the arrival in Lothlórien of her most favourite person in Middle-Earth. "Is Aragorn really coming?" When Sam, grinning broadly, nodded her head in answer, Gilrean let out a shriek that sent Sam's ears ringing wildly in her head and jumped up from her chair, almost taking out her mother's chin in the process.  
  
Blinking madly to get the ringing out of her head, Sam vaguely noticed Gilrean dash around the table and make a bolt for the door to their apartments as fast as her little legs could take her, golden hair and golden dress flying out behind her.  
  
She had almost made it to the door when Sam, having finally got her bearings, managed to call out in curious bemusement, "And just where do you think your going?"  
  
Gilrean skidded to a halt in the doorway, small chest rising and falling rapidly as she turned her head back in Sam's direction long enough to call out, "To find Rúmil and Orophin! I bet they don't know this!"  
  
And with that, the little girl let out a pearl of laughter at the sight of Sam's eyebrows, which had flown up on her head like a bird and took off through the door like she had been exploded from a cannon, the sound of her feet echoing down the hallway long after she fled from sight, leaving Sam to stand in the middle of their lounge, arms at her sides, stunned.  
  
The sudden and unexpected silence assaulted Sam's ears as she stood there, going over what had just happened. And after a minute, she found her shoulders begin to shake with mirth and as she laughed at the amazing mystery that was her daughter.  
  
Shaking her head, still smiling broadly, she made her way slowly towards the table in order to clear the evidence of their meal. But when she got there, she instead turned towards the window and gazed out at the world that was now her home, but her mind filled with another.  
  
Sighing with content, Sam felt an ironic smile touch her lips as she leaned back against the table, her arms across her chest, imaging that another stood next to her.  
  
"By God, Jack," she said out loud, startling the silence. "That girl gets more like you every bloody day."  
  
**** Meanwhile, in a place far away, in the middle of December.  
  
"By God, Jack," said an amused female voice behind him. "That girl gets more like you every bloody day."  
  
Flicking his head up, the Colonel shot Janet a grin before turning back to the television in front of him. The game was almost finished and he wasn't the only person in the cosy room who was loathed to be parted from it for even a second. At his side, Cassandra casually dived her hand into the bowl of popcorn, all the while sending him sly little glances out of the corner of her slanted cat eyes.  
  
He could see her doing it, as could Daniel, who was sitting on the single sofa beside them and flicking his attention between the TV screen and the pair of them on the sofa, where he would frown at them both, silently telling Jack that he thought they were just as bad as each other and he would have been quite happy to be rid of them both.  
  
Christmas day was well and truly over by this time, but like Jack, everyone in the room couldn't bring themselves to make any effort to move. They were all stuffed to the gills on Janet's cooking and floating happily away on Cassie's finest imported wine, and none of them could bear the thought of the day finally ending.  
  
It was well after dark, and the living room of Janet's house was cosy and warm from the mixture of the fire and good old fashioned body-heat and Jack could feel his eyes growing heavy with the weight of it, even though he was telling himself firmly to keep them open.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Cassie start up again, and he forced himself to keep the smile from twitching on his mouth. Turning his head ever so slightly, he watched her covertly as she slowly withdrew her popcorn filled hand from the bowl in her lap, her eyes trained on the still figure sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of her.  
  
Spying Daniel turn his head in their direction once again, with the permanent frown still in place, Jack ignored him completely while slowly moving his hand from his knee and inching it across the millimetres that separated him from the young woman sitting beside him on the couch, while keeping his face firmly trained on the TV in front of him. Feeling his hand bump into Cassie's, he opened his palm and felt the telltale sensation of warm, power-coated popcorn snake up his bones as she filled his palm with the light whiteness.  
  
Bringing his hand slowly up to his chest, Cassie mirroring his gesture, they struck swiftly and deadly, the hail of popcorn bouncing off Teal'c bald head, which at the present moment, was covered with a warm, woollen hat that Jonas had given him for Christmas. The effect was instant, causing the dark man to jump off the mat like he'd been shot and gave Jonas, who was sitting beside Teal'c, such a fright that he gave an almighty yelp and fell sideways.  
  
The look the Jaffa shot Cassie would have frightened anyone not closely acquainted with the big man, but he only caused the young woman to snort into her hand, and burrow into Jack's side with a shrieking laugh as Teal'c made a show of getting off the floor, his own hands filled with popcorn from his own bowl at his side.  
  
"Oh no you don't, mister!" cried Janet, quickly getting up between the revenge-ridden Jaffa and the laughing pair on the couch. "I'm not having any more mess on this floor, unless you're willing to clean it up! By hand!"  
  
"Oh, let him, Jan." drawled Daniel from his sofa, where he was watching the play with avid fascination. "They deserve far more than a hail of popcorn, believe me."  
  
Cassie poked her tongue out at him in answer, which only caused a smile of his own to flash up on Daniel's face, as he asked her with raised eyebrows, "Oh, very mature, kiddo. And how old are you again?"  
  
From her side, Jack noticed the only figure in the room who was still silent turning his head back and forth between the mock lashing the young woman and the archaeologist were giving each other. Cassie's boyfriend, Michael Cleaver, was sitting on the floor, leaning up against the leg of Janet's chair, his hands on his knees, a huge grin on his face as he watched the hidden side of his girlfriend that he had never seen before emerge before his eyes.  
  
A senior at the University he and Cassie both attended, the pair had been together for just over a year now, but this was his first trip to Colorado Springs, and as such, the Christmas dinner had been a tad bit more important to both Janet and Cassie, who had outdone each other with the preparations. Lucky for them, everything had gone without a hitch and it was obvious to anyone that Michael had had the time of his life, even though he had to be slightly alarmed by the attention he received from the many males in the room.  
  
Thinking back, Jack found himself grinning as he remembered how anxious Cassie had been when she made each and every one of them swear on their own lives that they weren't to give him any trouble. And so far so good, as far as Jack was concerned. All the boys on SG-1 had been nothing but polite when arriving at Janet's early this afternoon and introductions were made, even though Jack wasn't the only one to catch the flare of alarm that sprung up in the young man's eyes when he caught sight of Teal'c in the doorway.  
  
And as the evening had progressed, and everyone found themselves relaxing with the uncomfortable surroundings at first, Jack had found himself drawn to sit next to Michael at the dinner table and ask him about himself. What he had found was no surprise; he could have guessed that he was from white middle-class stock at first glance. But what had come as a surprise was that his father, one Colonel James Cleaver, had been killed in the Gulf when Michael and his younger sister, Emily, were young children, and his mother had brought them up ever since.  
  
Michael had been casual when telling this over the dinner table, but Jack was no fool, he could see the anger simmering in his brown eyes with his words. And it was then, even though Jack hardly knew anything about the young man, that he decided he rather liked Michael Cleaver, even though two major facts were standing in the way. The obvious first was that he was sleeping with Cassie, who was the only daughter Jack had on this side of the galaxy. And the other was the distressing fact that that was studying to be an Archaeologist, like his girlfriend.  
  
So as if being cooped up in a house with one official Archaeologist wasn't bad enough, let alone an annoying Alien enthusiast, he now had two budding rock finders to put up with, all of who were driving him up the wall.  
  
With that thought, a loud cheer went up in the Fraiser's living room, and Jack jerked straighter in the sofa, blinking madly at the TV to see what the final score was on the game. Seeing that his chosen team had been victorious once again, the Colonel finally began to listen to what his body was telling him and admitted to himself that he was bushed.  
  
Pushing Cassie's head out from under his arm, he stretched both them above his head and made to stand up, trying to get the sensation to return to his legs.  
  
Janet caught sight of his pitiful movements and laughed from her sofa. "Go upstairs, Jack. There's the spare room just waiting for you."  
  
But Jack shook his head, trying to wiggle his toes at the same time. "Thanks, Jan, but I couldn't." he told her with a tired smile. "You've got enough extras, anyway."  
  
But Janet wouldn't hear it. "Rubbish, Colonel," she said, waving her hand in the direction of the stairs. "You know Daniel and Jonas are going to fall asleep down here anyway, and Teal'c will be fine on the mat, won't you? Daniel's far too drunk to drive you back anyway." she told the big Jaffa with a regretful smile.  
  
Teal'c blinked across at the small doctor and slowly nodded his head. "I am aware of that fact, Doctor Fraiser. Daniel Jackson has been for quite some time." He shot the Archaeologist a disapproving frown before turning back to Janet, ignoring Danny's sputter of outrage. "All I require is a blanket and I shall be fine on the floor, Doctor. I thank you."  
  
Catching Michael's raised eyebrows at Teal'c strange wording, Jack felt it was time to go. Gently pushing the sleepy Cassie off his side, he leaned her back against the couch and pushed the blanket further up on her lap where it had fallen off sometime prior. Standing, he spied his jacket on the arm of the couch but decided to leave it there until morning, and stepping around bodies, walked around the back of the sofa.  
  
"Right," he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'll see you guys in the morning, then," he said to the room at large.  
  
"Night, Jack." Daniel murmured absently, his eyes still glued on the TV.  
  
"Yeah, goodnight, Jack," came from Jonas, who by now was lying on his stomach at Teal'c side, chin resting in his palms, eyes darting back and forth across the screen as he watched the highlights from the game.  
  
"Indeed, O'Neill." Teal'c rumbled, but honouring him by actually looking up. "Sleep well."  
  
"Thanks, guys." Jack muttered back. With a wave at Michael and Janet, and a quick kiss to the top of a sleeping Cassie's unmoving head, he turned and walked up the stairs, heading for the comfort of Janet's spare room. Finding it in the dark, he remembered managing to strip his uncomfortable jeans off before falling face first on the bed, his brain switching off even before his head hit the pillow.  
  
****  
  
Sometime during the night, Jack blinked his eyes open in the dark, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Silent as a ghost, he sat up in the bed and groped inside the neck of his shirt, his hand's desperately searching for the golden cord he knew would be there.  
  
He breathed a sigh of relief as his fingers found and clutched around the thin golden cord around his neck, and he felt his heart start to calm in his chest. Bringing the cord out of his neck, he let his fingers slide down the band until he found the smooth oval stone at the end, almost unconsciously caressing the smooth surface as he stared out in front of him into the darkness, feeling his body begin relax with the soothing motion.  
  
With the arrival back into consciousness also came a fresh and familiar wave of longing, of guilt, and an overpowering sense of loss. Looking down in the dark, he could just make out the outline of the by-now warm stone in his hand, and not for the first time he swore he felt the pulsing of a heartbeat between his fingers.  
  
"Oh, Sam." Jack whispered to the night, as he willed up the last image he had of her, standing on the hill outside the city of Lothlórien, the baby in her arms as she watched him disappear. He knew that however long he lived he would never forget her like that; her hair long and braided at the sides like the elves, Gilrean tucked up warmly in the folds of her foreign cloak.  
  
Feeling the stone comforting pulsing in his hands, Jack brought it up to his face and peered out at it, inches from his eyes to see it better in the dark even as he felt the golden cord pull around his neck. But the feeling was familiar, soothing, having been around his neck every day for the part four years.  
  
He remembered even now, years later, arriving back in his bedroom abruptly, with the sunshine pooling through his curtains and the sound of Cassie and Daniel clanking around downstairs as they fished around his nearly empty cupboards for some breakfast.  
  
He remembered laying there, on his back on his bed, his heart slowly breaking in his chest as the notion that his lover and child were gone from him, were in a place he could not reach. But then, he felt the stone; still clutched in his palm, begin to throb and the warmth that snaked up his arms to his chest made the sense of loss more bearable.  
  
And from then on, it never left his body. Never. No matter what mission he went on with SG-1, no matter where he was, Earth, Chulak, or some new, unexplored world, the cord and the stone never left his neck.  
  
He knew the others had seen it, and wondered about it. But he hadn't told them its origins, or its true meaning. Daniel, at least, had been curious, and was forever trying to get Jack to take it off so he could take a look, but so far he hadn't been successful, and had been forced to buy the Colonel's story that it had been given to him by a family member. Jack dreaded the day that the Archaeologist got his hands on the thing and realised that the stone was no way Earth bound.  
  
But now, heaving a great sigh, Jack knew there was no way in hell he was going to be able to get back to sleep so he silently got out of the bed, rubbing his face at the same time and wishing he was back in his own house with its constant supply of beer in the fridge for a midnight snack.  
  
Finding the door in the dark, the tired Colonel padded silently down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen, wondering if Janet had any of that yummy Christmas cake left from dinner. Deciding that yes, that would make a delicious nibble this early in the morning, Jack had just about reached the kitchen door when he heard lowered voices from the lounge and he paused in mid-step, wondering who was up and talking this early.  
  
Figuring it was probably Jonas and Teal'c, who often annoyed the hell out of Jack and Daniel on missions by having midnight chats in the middle of nowhere, Jack was just about to head off again when one of the voices came across more clearly, and with a start, he realised it was Cassie.  
  
Curious, Jack left the kitchen and followed the voice to the bottom of the stairs, where he stopped just outside the lounge, now able to here the voices clearly. It was indeed Cass, and Michael with her, and Jack wondered with a frown where the three sleeping males had been put during the night as he remembered Janet saying they were probably going to crash in the lounge after the game.  
  
Poking his head around the corner to make sure the two of them were indeed alone, he saw that Cassie was sitting on the sofa with her legs across the cushions, watching Michael with a small smile on her face as he examined the titles of the books in the large bookshelf in the dimmed lighting.  
  
"God, Cass," Michael murmured without turning his head from the books. "You've got Harry Potter in here."  
  
Hearing the answering snort from the sofa, the young man turned around and grinned across at his girlfriend. "Please tell me these are your mums."  
  
"Hey!" Cassandra answered quietly, but her voice filled with laughter. "There is nothing wrong with Harry Potter, thank you very much. I happen to enjoy Sci-fi and fantasy, and you damn well know that!"  
  
Now it was Michael's turn to snort as he went back to the shelf, running his long fingers up and down the spines of the books. "Yeah, I know. God knows where that came from, with your mum being a doctor."  
  
"Mike, what's that got to do with anything?" Cassie laughed, shaking her head at his bizarre logic. But Michael only shrugged.  
  
"Nothing, I guess. Only it sounded good at the time."  
  
Having heard far enough to know that the two of them definitely wanted to be alone, Jack slowly began to turn around with the intention to go back to his room, not wanting to disturb the young couple with the search of the kitchen for the mysterious Christmas cake.  
  
He was only half way down the hallway when Michael said something that made him freeze, the blood in his body going cold in seconds. Not knowing what made him do it, Jack found himself quickly padding back down the hallway to his spot buy the lounge door as he avidly listened for Cassie's answer.  
  
"Seriously, Cass, who is she?" came Michael's curious second question, and Jack wished he could risk poking his head around the door to see what he was looking at.  
  
Only hearing the silence from the sofa must have told Michael that something was wrong and he turned his head in Cassie's direction, only to see the laughter gone from his girlfriend's face as she sat there, staring at the carpet, her face white.  
  
"Cass?" Michael whispered, concerned. Obviously the tone of his voice snapped the young woman out of her trance and she jerked her head up. Giving it a shake, she slowly got off the sofa and came to stand beside her tall boyfriend at the mantelpiece.  
  
Staring down at the row of photographs displayed before her, Cassie's face was blank of emotion as she reached up slowly to touch the small faces grinning back at her.  
  
"That's Sam," she whispered quietly, still not looking at him. Deeply concerned, Michael dragged his eyes off her face to stare down at the photograph she was gazing at with a look of utter sadness in her eyes.  
  
It was of an obviously younger Cassie sitting in what he recognised instantly as a military mess hall, even though he hadn't been in one since he was a small boy. She was dressed in civilian clothes save for a green fatigue jacket that was about five sizes to big for her that had been thrown over her shoulders. At her side was an attractive blonde haired woman in similar fatigues. Both were grinning widely at the camera while Cassie had one arm thrown around the blonde woman's neck in am impromptu hug.  
  
Behind them, Michael could just made out the faces of many men who were in the mess with them, not looking at the camera, just going about the business of eating their meals.  
  
"That was taken about six years ago, I think." Cassie told him in a soft voice, still staring down at the photo. "It was the school holidays and I was bored to tears so Sam told me to come up to the base for lunch, even though I'm not really meant to be up there without good reason."  
  
Looking at her face, Michael saw the sad expression had been replayed with one of tender affection, and he wondered just who this woman was.  
  
"Is she a friend of your mums?" he asked delicately, realising it was a sore topic.  
  
But Cassie only smiled at his question as she gently reached out to pick the photo up off the mantelpiece. "Yeah, she was a friend of mums," she answered, "They were best friends. But it was more than that." Looking up for the first time, she smiled softly into Michael's face, seeing the concerned expression on his face and wanting to reassure him.  
  
"Sam was my special friend," she said carefully, trying to explain. "She saved my life when I was 12, and it was because of her that I came to live here with Janet." Looking down at the photo, she closed her eyes for a second, sighed, then opened them again.  
  
"I owe everything to her."  
  
Stunned, Michael looked quickly back at the mantelpiece and for the first time he realised just how many of the photo's there had the same blonde woman in them. Moving from Cassie's side, he looked intently into all the photos, one by one, really seeing them for the first time. Often or not, one or all of the four males asleep upstairs were with the blonde woman he now knew as Sam were in the photo with her. Most of the time it was the one with glasses; Daniel.  
  
"Jesus." He muttered, wondering how he could not have known this about Cassie until now. But when a thought suddenly exploded in his head, he jerked his head back at her and asked quickly, "Where is she, Cass?" and instantly regretted it, knowing he sounded far to eager, to curious, when something bad had obviously happened to this woman.  
  
But Cassie didn't start to cry, or turn on him in fury. She only continued to smile gently down in the photo, as if she hadn't even heard his question.  
  
"She's gone now," she murmured after a time, and Michael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.  
  
"Gone?" he repeated, wondering if he had heard it right.  
  
But then Cassie was reaching out and placing the photo frame gently on the mantelpiece. Then she was turning in his direction and a bright smile was on her face as she reached out and grabbed hold of his hand.  
  
"Come on, it's getting cold down here. Let's go upstairs." And Michael didn't have time to ever sputter out a reply before she was pulling him in the direction of the stairs that led up to her old bedroom.  
  
Confused, frustrated and curious as to the sudden turn of events, Michael barely noticed Cassie pulling him up the stairs as his brain desperately tried to put all he had heard into order. And for the first time, he suddenly realised that there was more to Cassie than meets the eye, and he wondered what it was. Wondered why she considered four military personnel as her closest family members save her mum.  
  
And that brought up a whole new set of questions. He had always known that Cassie was adopted, but for the first time he wondered at her birth parents, where they were or what had happened to them to make them give Cassie up. And where did this mysterious 'Sam' come into things? What did she have to do with bringing Cassandra to Janet?  
  
So intent on his questions, Michael didn't even notice the black figure standing in the shadows of the hallway as he and Cassie quietly padded up the stairs. Neither did he notice the man that emerged from those shadows only seconds later, heading in the opposite direction, his fist enclosed tightly around an object hanging from a golden cord around his neck like a lifeline.  
  
He was silent and the two young people paid him no heed as quietly, Jack O'Neill slipped back into the night. Only when he found himself on the back porch did his fumbling fingers bring the stone out into the night. And with one desperate look behind and around him to make sure he was alone, Jack gave a deep breath, and let the stone do its magic as he released its splendour, careful to hide the brightness from any curious eyes.  
  
And as he felt the stone start to open the mirror he longed for, Jack let himself relax as he caught sight of what he had been searching for. There was a flash of blonde hair in the mirror and Jack knew he was once again paralysed, knew he could not move until the mirror released him.  
  
But for now, he was content to use his gift, to use the mirror to help ease the ache in his soul. 


	2. Matters of Rings and Stones

Well. Finally here is part 2, sorry for the lengthy delay. :D One thing I must point out though is as I was going over this one last time yesterday evening, I noticed something that made me slap myself on the forehead! It turns out I've been spelling 'Gilrean' wrong, so I've gone and changed it to 'Gilraen', as it is in the books. Also, this chapter was really fun for me to write, I've waited for so long to add the Hobbits in! So enjoy it :D As you might also figure out, from here on in, the story will mostly be traveling parallel to the books. But with a difference, of course! Lets just say, I like writing about the bits that are NOT written into the books, lol. The unseen stuff, and it's those moments that are going to shake Sam's life up a bit! Anyway, that's enough from me. Remember: reviews are loved! (And thank you to everyone who has sent them! :) Damia  
  
Part Two  
  
"Matters of Rings and Stones"  
  
****  
  
"Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor, and to the Lord and Stewart of the realm, to speak and to be silent, to do and to let be, to come and to go, in need or plenty, in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or death take me, or the world end. So say I, Peregrin son of Paladin of the Shire of the Halflings."  
  
Pippin swearing allegiance to the Stewart of Gondor, "The Return of the King"  
  
****  
  
The first week of May, 3018 TA. The Village of Hobbiton, The Shire..  
  
Feeling the wind of the glorious day around them blowing her long golden hair out behind her, Sam clutched the small body in front of her more tightly and spurred Madonna on, a grin bursting on her face as she felt the horse beneath her give in to the desire to run. The meadow became a green and gold blur as they galloped full tilt across the grass; Madonna's legs stretched as her powerful muscles flew them through the Shire.  
  
She vaguely heard Pippin Took give a wild, war cry of a laugh from in front of her as he held on to Madonna's mane for all he was worth. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Sam knew she should probably slow down, that it wasn't safe for the young Hobbit to be travelling so fast on such a large horse, but the other half of her brain quickly squashed all resistance as they cleanly cleared a fallen log and took off across the paddock once again.  
  
It had been three week since Sam and Gandalf had arrived in the Shire, and in those weeks Sam had found very little time to take Madonna for a long ride and she had missed it. Even though Gandalf often told her someday she was going to "fall off that blasted horse and break her reckless neck", Sam loved the excitement of the speed, the danger of the chase, and the complete and utter freedom of the wind through her unpinned hair.  
  
It was obvious that Madonna was enjoying her chance of unbridled freedom as much as Sam and Pippin were, for the chestnut mare had been at full tilt for a while now and showed no sign of wanting to slow down herself.  
  
"Hold on, Pippin!" Sam yelled above the pounding of hooves as the trio expertly wove around a set of trees that Sam knew signaled their arrival in the outskirts of Hobbiton. Spying the country road just above the rise, Sam changed Madonna's direction ever so slightly with the flick of her wrist, and without slowing down in the slightest, the horse tensed her muscles and cleared the hill so they now flew parallel with the road.  
  
She could now see the smoke rising slowly from the tops of the Hobbit holes of the village and knew their little expedition of thrills was soon to be over. Unwilling to send Pippin off without a bang, Sam loosened her hold on the reigns to give Madonna all the head she wanted, leaned forward and cried, "Come on, Maddy! Just a little bit more!" and was rewarded when the mare gave a determined snort, pulled her head down and lengthened her stride.  
  
From the corner of her eye, Sam caught sight of the stout figure of a Hobbit on the road turn with a start at the sound of the approaching horse and jump clear in the air as he saw Madonna flying towards him. Recognizing the Hobbit instantly, Sam grinned devilish and yelled for Pippin's attention.  
  
But it was obvious the young Took had already noticed the fellow Hobbit on the road, for the instant he flew past on Madonna, the horse a tad closer to the Hobbit than necessary, Pippin straightened, and keeping one hand firmly clutched in the mane, he cupped his mouth and yelled down at the stunned young man,  
  
"Sorry, Ted! No time to stop for a chat!"  
  
And as Ted Sandyman's jaw literally hit the ground as he watched Pippin zoom past in a blur of red horse and Sam's golden hair, Pippin leaned back against Sam and let out another wild, completely uncivilized, war cry of a laugh.  
  
Sam felt like joining him, and did.  
  
She barely noticed the other Hobbits stop what they were doing and stare as they galloped over the front paddocks of the village on their way towards Bag End. But when she finally, regretfully, pulled Madonna to a halt a few minutes later, she could feel the round, staring eyes of the awed Hobbit children who had obviously seen them coming and bolted up the hill to catch a closer glimpse of the mad woman, her equally mad horse and the obviously insane Hobbit who dared join them.  
  
Jumping cleanly from Madonna's back, she gave the heaving horse a quick pat on her rump before walking to her front and reaching up to kiss her firmly on her nose. Madonna snorted and tossed her head, her sides heaving from their exertion.  
  
"Now, Maddy! Stop that!" laughed Sam as her horse tossed her head again. Still laughing, Sam walked around Madonna's side and stared up at Pippin, hands on her hips, which were hidden in the folds of her comfortable cinnamon skirt.  
  
The Hobbit looked half crazed, sitting up on the seemingly enormous horse, his normally curly hair sticking out in all direction, clothes wind blown and littered with bits of leaves. His eyes were wide as buckets and still held the wild lit from minutes ago. He was staring out in front of him, a silly grin on his face, seemingly blind to his surroundings.  
  
"Well, Master Peregrin?" Sam prompted, hoping he didn't have a sudden heart attack or something. "What is your opinion of horses now?"  
  
"Huh?" was Pippin's only legible answer and he suddenly blinked madly and stared down at her as if he had just realised she was there.  
  
Giggling, Sam was just reaching up to pull him from the saddle when the front door of Bag End flew open and two more small figures rushed out to meet them. Leaving Pippin where he was for the moment, Sam turned and grinned down at the gaping faces of Merry Brandybuck and Samwise Gamgee, both of whom had come to a skidding halt at the gate and were staring up at Pippin like he had grown five additional heads.  
  
"Saints spare me, what have you gone and done, Mr. Pippin?" was Samwise's whispered inquiry. Merry, it seemed, was still unable to speak, for he was still gaping up at his cousin, shaking his head from side to side, obviously not believing his eyes.  
  
Their reaction seemed to be exactly what Pippin needed to retain his sanity for he suddenly straightened in the saddle and tilted his nose down at them. "I'll have you two know, thank you very much, that I am now an accomplished horseman."  
  
Hiding her snort in Madonna's side, Sam turned back to Sam and Merry, both whom had turned their head to her for verification of this amazing statement the instant it had left Pippin's mouth. Forcing a serious expression on her face, she nodded her head sagely while giving Madonna a leisurely pat.  
  
"Be that as it may, Peregrin Took," came a deep voice rife with amusement from the doorway, "Don't go getting it into that foolish head of yours to take up the sport as a regular occurrence. I will not be picking up bits of you from here to Buckland the next time you take a fancy of scaring the living daylights out of Ted Sandyman!"  
  
They all looked up as Gandalf poked his head out of the doorway, his bushy gray eyebrows pushed up in inquiry as his expectant gaze settled on the mounted Hobbit, who had the sense to look sheepish and nod silently.  
  
While in the back on her mind wondering how on earth Gandalf could have known about Ted Sandyman, Sam left Pippin and Madonna where they where, knowing Madonna wouldn't stray to far from Bag End for a few minutes, and met the Wizard as he left the doorway. Reaching up, she gave her dear friend a loving kiss on his rough cheek before linking her arm through his as they turned to head in doors.  
  
Behind her, she heard Pippin cry to the Hobbits below him, "You should have seen it, Merry! I was going so fast the trees seemed to be all joined together! And Sam! You should have seen Ted's face! You would have loved it!"  
  
Then...  
  
"Here, here! Just where are you all going? Can someone get me down from here!? Samantha? Gandalf?"  
  
****  
  
They found Frodo seated in front of the open fire, despite the humid temperature of the day, staring moodily into the flames as if expecting them to reveal all the secrets of the world. Hearing Sam and Gandalf's arrival in the front hall, the dark haired Hobbit quickly jumped to his feet as a guilty flush stained his neck. Turning to his guests, he forced a smile to light his lips as he glanced out the window.  
  
"You have finally managed to get my cousin up on that beast of yours, I see, Samantha." Frodo said with humor as they entered the room, both ducking unconsciously as the cleared the low doorway. Sam had smacked her forehead enough times in the first week of their stay for the gesture to have become reflex by now.  
  
Sam smiled down at her new friend as she made a beeline towards the kitchen. Helping herself to a cup of tea, she called through the door, "Pippin sure won't be making any more comments about Maddy, I assure you, Frodo." Smiling at the answering laughter her remark had caused, Sam seized one of the tasty pastries cooling on the bench and came back to the den.  
  
She found Gandalf sitting in his usual seat, puffing away on his pipe as he casually regarded Frodo under bushy gray eyebrows as the young Hobbit stood silently in front of the window, watching wistfully as his laughing friends played merrily with Madonna. Sam was sure her dear horse was putting up with their childish behavior with barely contained tolerance.  
  
Hearing the clicking of her shoes as she came back into the room, Frodo quickly turned from the window and smiled kindly at her as he moved out of her way, brushing away Sam's protests that she was fine sitting by the fire. Sam had taken to sitting on the window seat each morning, as she liked watching the small Hobbits as they went about their daily business.  
  
After four years at Lothlórien, there was something refreshing, soothing and undeniably simple about life among the little people that warmed Sam's heart. Not for the first time, she felt a stab of regret at the thought of Gilrean back among the elves, having never known a life like this. Sam had sworn to herself after only an afternoon in the Shire that she would find some way to bring Gilrean here to stay, even if that was to be years in the future.  
  
As she took a seat, Sam covertly regarded the Hobbit as Gandalf had been, watching and waiting for the moment Frodo would announce plans for his departure. In the three weeks since Sam and Gandalf had arrived suddenly in the Shire in the second week of April, Frodo hadn't spoken a word about the matters which had been discussed at length the morning after their arrival. Sam knew she would remember that morning for the rest of her life.  
  
Despite the fact Gandalf hadn't been in the Shire in over nine years, their arrival on the night of the 12th April had been met with only happy kindness on Frodo's behalf, the Hobbit refraining to comment on the Wizard's rather alarming absence. He had greeted Sam with frank curiosity, as she knew he would, understanding from Gandalf that not many Tall Folk ventured into the Shire.  
  
His reunion with Gandalf had been touching, the young Hobbit bombarding the Wizard with questions about the elves before he had even taken a seat. But Gandalf had been firm, and refused to discuss anything until the morning, stating that what both he and Samantha were in need of most was a warm bed and a long nap. Sam had thought instantly of her daughter back in Lorien with Galadriel, who would be long in bed by this hour, and was struck with a stab of longing to see her golden face again, even though they had only been separated a matter of days.  
  
As it had turned out, their departure from Lothlórien had been postponed over a month after a vital message had arrived from Aragorn in February requesting they delay until he arrived in April, stating he had essential news he must share with Gandalf and Celeborn both. So they had all spent restless and anxious weeks waiting for his return, both Sam and Gandalf eager to be off on their journey, but knowing Aragorn wouldn't halt their progress unless it was something vitally important.  
  
He had finally arrived, cold and dirty, late at night in the middle of April and had asked to be immediately taken to Celeborn and Galadriel, who had greeted him anxiously. Sam remembered the haggard look on his handsome face as he quickly told all to his silent audience, and had wanted nothing more than to smooth the tired lines away.  
  
His news was indeed dire. With a heavy heart and a grim expression, he had told them that his Dúnedain Rangers had spotted Mordoran scouts heading towards the Shire and would be there in a matter of weeks. Sam remembered with a chill the look of complete and utter defeat on Gandalf's face as he heard the news, and as she watched, he bent his head and closed his eyes as if in pain. Sam knew he had been dreading this moment for years, but would have secretly hoped it would never come.  
  
There was no time for delay after that. The conference had broken up quickly as everyone went to work. Gandalf and Aragorn had headed down the corridor, both their heads bent close together as they made plans. Celeborn and Haldir had headed in the direction of the armory, no doubt to double the weapons Gandalf and Sam would be taking on their journey while a white faced Galadriel went straight to her chambers to write a quick message to Elrond, explaining all to her son-in-law in Rivendell.  
  
As for Sam, she had headed slowly up the stairs to where her daughter lay sleeping in her bed, knowing with a heavy heart that they would be gone by the time she woke in the morning. So she had sat there, on the side of the small bed, the room silent save for Gilrean's light breathing, content to just watch her daughter's fair features relax in sleep.  
  
Lightly brushing a wisp of golden hair off Gilrean's face with the tip of her finger, Sam had gently traced the curve of the child's brow, smiling softly at how it mirrored Jack's. She thought of him then, as she often did when looking at his daughter, wondering if he was well and what he was doing at that moment.  
  
Sometime later, Gilrean had stirred, her little face scrunching up as she fought consciousness. But when her eyes had finally fluttered open, hazy with sleep, she saw Sam sitting on the bed and murmured softly, "Mama?"  
  
Biting her lip, Sam had leaned down and brushed a kiss on the little girl's forehead, even as Gilrean pushed herself up off the pillow. "Is Aragorn here, Ma?" she asked groggily. But when Sam had nodded her head, Gilrean had blinked in excitement and made to jump out of the bed, only to get tangled in her nightgown in the process.  
  
"No, hen." Sam had murmured quietly, while gathering the little girl up on her lap. "He's busy with Gandalf at the moment." Looking down into the pouting face, Sam had smiled and started to stroke her daughter's fine hair to sooth her. "They have some very important things to sort out before morning, but I'm sure he'll come and see you when he can."  
  
Obviously sensing something in her mother's tone, Gilrean had tilted her small face up through her hair to regard Sam with wise, solemn eyes. "Are you and Mithrandir leaving soon, Ma? Now that Aragorn's here?" And when Sam had nodded her head in answer, wondering how Gilrean was going to take the news that not only her mother and Gandalf would be leaving, but Aragorn also, was bound to leave the next day. Now that he had delivered his message, he would be anxious to get back to his men.  
  
But Gilrean had only nodded her head, accepting what had to be done. Then she had surprised Sam by reaching up and tangling her small arms around her mother's neck, bringing them face to face. Her face serious, she told Sam calmly, "I'll be a good girl, I promise, Mama. I'll help Galadriel all the time and I won't get into any trouble until you get back, okay?"  
  
Chuckling, Sam had hugged the little girl. "I know you will, hen." Feeling tears threaten, she had hastily wiped her eyes before pulling back, kissing the top of Gilrean's head as she went. "I'm sure Galadriel will be pleased to have the help."  
  
Pleased, Gilrean had snuggled into her mother's lap and closed her eyes, something that made Sam's heart clench tightly in her chest, for Gilrean was normally a very independent child and didn't often seek comfort. But when Sam had thought her again asleep, she was surprised when the little girl stirred and murmured softly, "I'll be very brave, like Da was when Pènne sent him home."  
  
Opening her mouth to answer, Sam caught sight of movement in the doorway and closed it abruptly. Slowly turning her head, she found not only Gandalf, but also Aragorn standing quietly under the archway that separated Gilrean's nursery from the main chamber of their apartments, watching the pair on the bed with solemn expressions. Knowing it was time to go, Sam turned back to her daughter and gently untangled her arms from around her neck. Laying her back on the bed, she whispered softly, "I know you will, baby. Just like Da was."  
  
Then she straightened and beckoned the two silent men over.  
  
****  
  
Now, as she sat in the warm and cozy living room of Bad End, Sam thought of everything that had happened over the past three weeks. Mainly she thought of the serious and vital talk that had taken place the morning after their arrival in the Shire. She remembered Frodo's face as he sat and listened intently to everything that had left Gandalf's mouth. Matters of War and death, of murder and betrayal, all of which were traced back to the little band of gold he held in his hand through the whole conversation.  
  
His face had gotten more and more pale as the Wizard had gone on, his eyes seemingly begging his dear old friend to take it all back, to let him return to the simple and peaceful life he had had the previous morning, one that he had taken for granted his whole life. Now he would have given anything to have back.  
  
Sam had thought of Bilbo, safe and at peace in Rivendell with Elrond and Arwen, and wondered if he had yet been told just what he had gotten his nephew into by leaving him that Ring.  
  
Over all, as she had sat quietly in the corner of the room as Gandalf and Frodo talked, long into the morning, she thought that Frodo took to the whole situation rather well. Of course, there were those initial feelings of shock and despair, but when he realised just what was at stake with the whole thing, he rose to the occasion remarkably. It wasn't until Gandalf admitted that Frodo must leave the Shire that he became unsure.  
  
Sam wondered if the little Hobbit realised what was happening out in the rest of the world, now that matters had been put into action. Did he realize that Aragorn had again doubled the number of his men guarding the Shire and protecting all the little lives within it? Did he realize that throughout Middle-Earth races were beginning to sense all was not well, that dark times were coming that threatened to destroy them all?  
  
She doubted it. The Shire was all that was in Frodo's mind, and rightly so. Sam had realised with a ironic smile as she sat there, silent in the corner, watching the many emotions flit over Frodo's face, that no matter where you were in the universe, what planet or plane of existence, the natural urge to protect what is our own runs strong in all of us.  
  
But the thought of little Frodo making the journey from the Shire by himself was what had worried her the most. Even if Frodo himself did not realize it, Gandalf could not make the initial journey with him. Both he and Sam were needed else where, she with her daughter and he had responsibilities that took him far from the Shire for the time being.  
  
It wasn't till Samwise Gamgee had made his untimely entrance through the window that Sam had felt her fears begin to ease. She had liked the young gardener from the start and knew before the Wizard had even opened his mouth that he would be going with Frodo on his journey, wherever it may take them. Samwise had the same unwavering loyalty that Jack O'Neill had when leading his troops, and she knew he would never leave Frodo behind.  
  
But now, three weeks later, as she watched the young Master of Bag End from her spot by the window, Sam realised it was more than just leaving the Shire itself that kept Frodo from beginning his mission. He was waiting for something. What that something was, Sam had no idea, and she wondered if Frodo even knew.  
  
Something was keeping him here and he could not leave until he realised just what it was. Sam was concerned, but distracted at the sound of laughter in the hallway. Turning her head, she was relieved when Samwise and Merry came through the archway, both of them red faced and smelling very strongly of grass. The reason for this was made apparent when a sheepish Pippin slowly followed his kinsmen into the room, and even Frodo lost his wistful expression when he caught sight of the younger Hobbit.  
  
"Good God. What on earth happened to you?" Sam asked bluntly when she saw the state Pippin was in. He was covered from head to toe in mud, dirt and grass and was walking with a very obvious limp. Alarmed, Sam jerked her head towards the window and peered out, but breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Madonna was quite happy on the side of the lane, head down and tale swishing idly in the breeze.  
  
In the back of her mind reminding herself that she must go out and take the saddle and bridle off the horse before she forgot, Sam turned back and stared down at Pippin, one eyebrow raised in question. But it was Merry who answered in the end, in a cheerful tone that spoke more than any words could.  
  
"It seems your Madonna doesn't take to kindly to certain people swinging off her hair. Pip here thought he could get down by himself by sliding down her neck." Grinning, Merry turned to his friend and nudged him non-to lightly in the ribs, making Pippin go beet red under all the mud.  
  
"Miss Maddy sent this ruffian flying, that she did!"  
  
Even as Pippin turned to glare at him, Merry was dancing out of the way, coming to hide behind Gandalf, who was watching and listening to their antics with barely contained amusement. Sam could see why he liked being amongst these people.  
  
But when Samwise turned his hopeful eyes in her direction, Sam knew before he even opened his mouth that the day had only just begun.  
  
"I've decided I rather like this beast of yours, Miss Samantha. Do you reckon Miss Maddy would mind taking me for a little ride later on?"  
  
****  
  
Meanwhile in Colorado Springs..  
  
"Well?" the demanding voice said, making Janet close her eyes in exasperation. Counting to three, she took a deep breath, wishing at the same time that when she opened her eyes, the man in front of her would be gone.  
  
No such luck. Heaving a sigh, Janet pushed Daniel's hand off the side of her desk and escaped to her filing cabinet on the other side of her office, wondering how on earth she was going to answer his question. He had cornered her annoyingly a few minutes ago and wouldn't take no for an answer.  
  
"I really don't know, Daniel," she finally admitted, forcing herself to look up and meet with anxious eyes. Leaning back against the cabinet, she crossed her arms over her chest unconsciously as she pounded what to say next. "Has anyone else noticed anything?"  
  
But Daniel just sighed and threw his hands up in irritation. "That's the thing, Jan." he explained. "Jonas thinks it's just a delayed sense of mourning and Teal'c basically told me to just leave him alone!" He reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had a huge headache.  
  
"I just don't know what to do anymore. He's been acting weirder and weirder for so long now I think everyone's just forced themselves to get used to it." Janet grimaced in sympathy at the tired bewilderment in the man's voice.  
  
If she was truly honest with herself, Janet had to admit she too, had been wondering about the Colonel's state of mind for a while now. Even if Daniel concerned visit had been pushed by the odd events of last week's Christmas dinner it had been going on about four years now. She knew it had something to do with Sam's disappearance, and if she hadn't been watching the Colonel as closely as she had been, she would have probably gone to the same conclusion Jonas obviously had. That he was finally mourning Sam's apparent death.  
  
But she had been gone almost five years now and the timing of the whole thing was just off.  
  
"You remember what he was like when Sam disappeared, Daniel. Maybe this is just that repeating itself." Shrugging her shoulders in helplessness, Janet knew it sounded weak even to her ears.  
  
Sighing, Daniel leaned back in her chair. "I just don't understand it. He was doing so well a few years ago. Remember how he just seemed to snap out of it about a year after she disappeared?" When Janet nodded her head in agreement, Daniel continued. "I mean, I thought that it was it, you know? Maybe he was finally starting to heal like the rest of us. But now."  
  
He trailed off, staring into space; his eyes filled with memories that only he could see. Janet could feel her own welling up inside her and ruthlessly pushed them back. This was not the time to get emotional again. Their friend needed them.  
  
Five years.  
  
God.  
  
Almost five years.  
  
Janet couldn't believe it had been that long since she had seen her. Even now, she still found herself wandering the halls of the SGC deep in thought and would find herself outside Sam's old office. There had been too many times to count in which the new occupant of that office would find her there, outside Sam's door, staring at the wall with dead eyes. It had been by unspoken agreement between Janet and the new doctor in Sam's office that they wouldn't speak if he saw her outside. They would just ignore each other completely. The doctor had gotten quite good at it over the years; he didn't even blink now in the odd time he saw her outside.  
  
They still talked about her sometimes. When Jack wasn't there. It would start innocently enough as someone, usually Jonas, would start to smile or get a wistful look in their eyes, and everyone would know instantly they were thinking of Sam. They the stories would start, and go on and on, and would usually only stop if something got too emotional, or Jack walked in the room.  
  
No one could say he hadn't gotten over it. For he had. What Daniel said was true. The first year had been hell for everyone, but especially for Jack. It was like he had fallen of the face of the planet for the first 7 months. The guys on SG-1 and Janet knew he was hardly ever at home, for they had all made an effort to go round there twice a week so how he was, but he was hardly ever there. Where he went, no one knew. It sure as hell wasn't Minnesota, for that was the first place they had gone and by the looks of things, it hadn't been lived in for years.  
  
But then, he had come back suddenly. He was still distant, still cold, but he was there all the same. Hammond had gone over to his house and the two of them had had a long talk. About what, no one knew, for neither of them had ever talked about it, but then Jack had started coming back to work. Missions were easy and few, but they were still missions and everyone poured themselves into them.  
  
It was Cassie who seemed to snap Jack out of it. No one knew how, but one day, Janet had arrived home from the mountain and found Jack sitting on her couch with Cassie beside him, the two of them sharing a bowl of ice cream as they silently watched The Simpson's on TV. Janet hadn't said a word, and neither had he, but every weekend after that, she would come home and he would be there, sitting on the couch with her daughter, eating ice cream.  
  
As it turned out, it was around then that Cassie's and her own relationship started to improve. The past six months had been tense and stressful, as Janet never seemed to know where the teenager was. But after that, Cassie stayed home more, and when she did go out with her friends, she always made sure to tell Janet where she was going, and was always back early.  
  
And Jack's outlook on the world seemed to completely change. It wasn't that he returned to his previous, dry humored self, far from it. But one morning he just turned up at the base a new person. Someone who had made peace with themselve and their demons, and who wanted nothing more than to live their life as best they could under the circumstances. He rarely talked about Sam, but that wasn't the point. It was that he now could without the frightening anger flaring in his eyes.  
  
It was around that time that he started to wear that strange necklace around his neck. He never gave anyone an explanation of its origins, and after a while, people stopped asking. It wasn't that he would get angry when asked, it was that people would get the feeling the answer was better off not knowing.  
  
Of course, Daniel never stopped pondering about it and where Jack had gotten it. Sometimes, when he would catch Jack fingering it idly on a mission, he would wonder if it was from a different planet, and Jack had just failed to hand it in once back on Earth. But then he would dismiss that thought from his mind as soon as it arrived, for Jack never made an effort to hide the stone from anybody, he just didn't talk about it. And that would be just stupid behavior if you have stolen it from off world.  
  
By now, as he sat in Janet's office, idly flicking a pen between his fingers, he wondered about the stone again and what true significance it had to Jack. And this time, when the thought surfaced, he clung onto it. Frowning, Daniel turned to Janet and hesitantly asked,  
  
"What do you reckon that stone of his means to him?" Janet instantly knew what stone he was talking about and leaned back, thinking over the question with a slight frown of her own.  
  
"You know," she began slowly, as if hesitant to bring it up herself. "I wouldn't a clue." Looking up, she asked, "He's had it for years, thought, right?"  
  
Daniel cautiously nodded. "I think so." Then he reached up and rubbed his nose again and he truly began to think about it. "He had it before Cass went to college, I know that, cause I remember that friend of hers. that red head.asking if she could try it on at graduation, and Jack basically told her to stuff it, 'member?"  
  
Janet clicked her fingers. "Yeah, that's right! She complained to Cassie about it when we were in the bathrooms, and Cass got really mad at her for asking in the first place."  
  
Even with the serious nature of their conversation, Daniel couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of an indignant Cassandra. But when he looked up, he found Janet regarding him seriously.  
  
"Why?" she asked in a curious tone. "Do you think that stone's got something to do with his recent odd behavior?"  
  
But Daniel only shook his head. "I really don't know, Jan. But you have to admit, it is strange, don't you think?"  
  
Janet bit her lip, then slowly nodded. Yes, it was odd. "But there isn't much we can do about it, is there? I mean, I can guess you want to have a look at the damn thing, but he never takes it off his neck, as far as I know. How are you going to get your hands on it without him knowing?"  
  
But Daniel was silent, not bothering to answer. When Janet again looked at him, she saw the determined expression on his face and groaned out loud. She knew that look. She had seen it hundreds, if not thousands of times over the past decade or so, and she knew they were all in for trouble.  
  
At her groan, Daniel had flicked his eyes up to hers, and a slow grin appeared on his face as he saw her look. "Well?" he asked, leaning back on the chair as he grinned wolfishly up at her. "You game for some detective work, Doctor?"  
  
Shaking her head, Janet pushed herself off from the filing cabinet and strolled over to his chair. Coming to a stop before him, she leaned forward and placed both hands on the chair arms, so they were face to face. Seeing his face, she felt a slow smile of her own breaking out on her own. Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss to his lips before saying in a tone that broached no argument what so ever,  
  
"If its anything illegal, Doctor Jackson, I am not bailing you out of jail if Jack lays charges." Sealing this threat with another kiss, she straightened and casually walked towards the door. Hearing only silence behind her, she stopped in the doorway, and turned back, only to find Daniel still in the chair, his glasses steamed up.  
  
"Do hurry up, Daniel. Cassie and Michael are leaving tomorrow, so I've organized something special for dinner. We don't want to be late."  
  
And with that, she idly strolled out the office door, knowing that by this time tomorrow they would be invading not only their old friend's privacy by looking into things that weren't their business, but also his trust. With Jack, Sam's memory was sacred, and even though he didn't talk about it often, they all know he would never completely get over her disappearance.  
  
But Janet firmly told herself that if they could help him in whatever what they could, neither her nor Daniel would give up looking into the mysterious stone he wore around his neck like a lifeline. And neither of them could have possible known they were about to dive into a secret that was better off not knowing. For themselves and everyone else.  
  
And far, far away, a strange little creature called a Hobbit finally made up his mind to leave his home and everything he knew to be good in the world, and begin a journey that would not only threaten his own life, but would start a chain of events so terrible it would determine the entire future of his world.  
  
And as these two Doctors innocently started into motion a chain of events on their own planet that would bring under threat one man's sanity, they had no way of knowing a former friend, now claimed dead and gone, was to be thrust into a War so great, the freedom of a whole world depended on the outcome.  
  
And no one, not the young Hobbit, nor the two Doctors, or their former friend, could have known both chains of events would soon by linked in the most curious way. A link forged in blood, and love, and the unwavering belief of one man that his family would eventually be together again.. 


	3. Gondorian Memories, Part 1

Hola!

Yes, she is still alive, and writing, lol. RL has been a bitch lately, its seems all I have been doing for the past few months is studying....tests....studying....assignments.....studying....exams! And more to come! Second Year Uni is bloody hard!

But I have finally managed to get this latest part finished, and I think you will like this one; it's a bit different than how the rest of the story has been. As you can tell, its called Gondorian Memories, and from my planning so far, will be about a four or five part mini-story inside the main story, of Sam, Gandalf and Gilraen's trip to Gondor in 3017 TA (where in the story, Gandalf reads the scrolls of Isildur). It will get a bit more in to depths with the relationships between Sam and the Gondor boys (Faramir and Boromir) and hopefully, if all goes well, will tie up nicely by the time the fellowship (with Sam in toe...oh! Spoiler!) end up in Minas Tirith for the big conclusion of the War of the Ring.

Also, just so you don't get alarmed with it gets posted up, I am currently writing a Alias fanfic at the moment, as well as this one. Don't ask me where it came from cause I wouldn't have a clue, but it just popped up out of nowhere so my writing time is now divided up between the two stories. The Alias fanfic, called "Shadows of Genesis" probably won't be posted for a while cause I want to get at least 5 parts done before I post. Its Sarkney, for all of you who follow that relationship (or hint of it) so keep your eyes and ears peeled.

Right. Finished the little updates. One with the post!

Kim

"Gondorian Memories, Part 1"  
  
"A lord of wisdom throned he sat,  
swift in anger, quick to laugh;  
an old man in a battered hat,  
who leaned upon a thorny staff.  
  
He stood upon the bridge alone  
And Fire and Shadow both defied;  
His staff was broken on the stone,  
In Khazad-dûm his wisdom died.  
  
The finest rockets ever seen;  
They burst in stars of blue and green,  
Or after thunder golden showers  
Came falling like a rain of flowers."  
  
- Frodo and Sam's Lament for Gandalf – "The Fellowship of the Ring"

July, 3017 TA. 

Minas Tirith, The Lands of Gondor...

To three-year-olds eyes, it was like nothing she had ever seen before. Sitting in front of her mother in the saddle, young Gilraen Cheyenne O'Neill leaned forward, as if she could get herself closer to the amazing sight in front of her without even having to take a step.  
  
The wind was blowing through the silky strands of the little girl's golden hair as the two horses stood quietly on top of the hill, all three of their riders staring down at the wonder that was the silver city in front of them. It was still a good few hours ride away, but to all of them, it was as their long journey had suddenly come to an end and all the trials of the past few weeks had been worth it.  
  
Twisting around in the saddle with the agility of an eel, Gilraen peered up into her mother's face through the folds of her warm hood, beaming with childish pleasure.  
  
"Look, mama!" she cried, reaching up to pat Sam's face to get her attention. "Look at the city!"  
  
But it was as if Sam didn't hear her, for she couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from the staggering sight in front of her. Never, in all her life and all her travels, had she seen anything quite like this. It was as if the city had been carved out of the mountain, and the people who lived within it had been forced to battle with nature herself to gain supremacy over the carving of their homes.  
  
Absently, Sam released one of the arms that had been snaked around her daughter's small waist to hold her in place on Madonna and reached up to brush a handful of golden hair away from her eyes so she could get a full view of the wonder she was beholding. Not until that moment had she been able to grasp what Gandalf had been telling her about the beauty of the White City. What it was about it that made its people so very patriotic that they would willingly die before its walls than see it overrun by the enemy.  
  
But now, sitting here on Madonna, with Gilraen's warm body tucked into hers, she finally understood. And as she continued to stare, to soak up every little detail she could make out at this distance, one thought instantly came to mind.  
  
"God, Daniel," she whispered, seemingly to herself. "How I wish you could see this."  
  
Curious, having heard her mother's words and wondering about the unknown person she was talking to, Gilraen again patted Sam's face, this time succeeding in getting her attention. Blinking, Sam tore her eyes away from the massive city below them and looked down into her daughter's small face that was almost swallowed in the hood of her cloak.  
  
"What's the matter, hen?" she asked gently, at the same time placing the back of her hand on the little girl's cheek to see if she was too chilled. Seeing that she wasn't, and still held the rosy glow of excitement, Sam gave her a huge smile and listened to what she had to say.  
  
"Can we really go in there, Mama?" Gilraen was asking, her sea blue eyes huge at the very thought of it.  
  
But Sam only gave a laugh and turned the three-year-old forward in the saddle once again, wrapping both ends of her elvish cloak around the little body in front of her before answering. "We certainly can, hen. You remember that Gandalf has some very important business to attend to in the city, and he was very nice to invite us along for the ride."  
  
As she said this, Sam flashed a smile in the direction of the rider beside her, only to get a chuckle from Gandalf in return. Warm and comfortable astride his own mount, the Wizard was also staring down at the city, with a satisfied look on his face.  
  
Turning to her, he asked joyfully, "Am I to take it, my dear, that you approve of your fellow man?"  
  
But Sam only snorted. "If they can build a city like that, out of a goddamned mountain, they obviously have something going for them."  
  
Raising his eyebrows at her answer, the Wizard turned his horse forward once again, and asked the woman beside him, "Shall we continue? It would be best if we arrived before dark, after all. Gondorians, like most people, don't take to kindly to strangers arriving after dusk."  
  
Smirking, Sam only shook her head in wonder as she righted Madonna for the climb down the hill. As the two horses started off, she called over her shoulder to the Wizard, letting her voice be carried by the wind; "I can't really see why they worry, with a set of gates like that. It would take an army to get into that city."  
  
And over an hour later, as they crossed the Pelennor, Sam saw that her words held truth. For as they got closer and closer to the city she could make it out in more detail and saw that the fortifications were like nothing she had ever seen. Letting her military mind take over, something that it didn't do very often these days she mused, Sam came to the conclusion that the primitiveness of their weaponry aside, the city looked more like a fortress than the home of thousands of people.  
  
But she wisely kept her opinions to herself as the two horses causally cantered along the thin road towards the gates of the city. Gandalf might be tolerant of her odd musings a great deal of the time, but things like machine guns and cannons were slightly above his ken.  
  
Anyway, Sam thought, as she watched the enormous leveled city get closer as they neared it, this was Gandalf's trip more than hers, and there was no way she was going to sidetrack him talking about things he had no way of understanding. She knew the real reason for their journey to Gondor was so the Wizard could read the scrolls of Isildur, and hopefully learn more about the Ring of Power that he had a suspicion his young Hobbit friend Frodo Baggins was in possession of.  
  
"It's so big, Mama!" Gilraen whispered in front of her, loud enough for her to hear, and Sam gave the little girl's shoulders a squeeze of reassurance. But when she turned around and peered up into Sam's face, her mother could see she had a question she was just dying to ask.  
  
"What is it, Gilly?" Sam asked kindly. "Your not scared are you?"  
  
The little face in front of her instantly scrunched up in indignant protest. "No!" she cried defiantly, then looked unsure as she asked next, "Will we get a bath, Ma?"  
  
Sam couldn't help it and laughed, causing Gandalf to look behind him at what was so funny. But Sam just waved a hand, telling him everything was fine and he turned back around with a shake of his head, probably wondering why human's had to be such strange beings.  
  
Pushing her daughter further back against her chest so she was almost swallowed in her mother's huge cloak, Sam leaned down and whispered in her ear, "I'm sure these nice people will give us a bath, hen." Then she playfully scrunched up her nose and said, "They had better, because we all need one real bad, don't we?"  
  
When the little girl went off in a pearl of familiar sounding giggles and she nodded her small head enthusiastically, Sam realised the probable truth of what she said. They had been travelling for over a week and were in need of not just a good long bath, but also real beds. As she continued on this line of thought, Sam realised that Gilraen had made the journey impressively well. While in truth the three-year-old had slept a great deal of the way, curled up inside her mother's cloak as she was now, she had been a cheerful and pleasing companion for both her and Gandalf when awake.  
  
On their previous journeys through Middle-Earth, Sam had opted to leave Gilraen either in Lorien with Galadriel, or if they were going past it, in Rivendell with Arwen and her father. This was her first long journey with the two travelers and Sam was immensely proud of her daughter for how she had handled it.  
  
Just then, her train of thought was interrupted by Gilraen abruptly sitting up straight in front of her, her eyes obviously catching sight of something in front of her. This was further backed when the little girl cried, "Look, Mama!" and pointed a small hand forward.  
  
Looking up, Sam felt a warning flutter in her stomach as she caught sight of the long line of armored soldiers fanning out along the edge of the first level of the city, just above the gates. Even though she couldn't see their faces, it was obvious that they were all staring down at the two small figures on horseback nearing the city gates, probably not being able to make out Gilraen hidden in Sam's cloak.  
  
"Gandalf?" Sam cried out anxiously to her friend, wondering if this was normal greeting into the city. But when the Wizard fell back to ride parallel with her, she was greatly relieved and said so. But the Wizard only shook his head.  
  
"These are dark times, Samantha. It is best if the city is on its guard. Truth by told, I would be greatly alarmed it we had not been regarded with suspicion." Then he looked down at the child peaking out from the green cloak and a gentle look came to his eyes.  
  
"And how do you find your greeting from Gondor, young one?" he asked Gilraen, obviously trying to take her mind off the guards staring down at them as they neared the gates.  
  
But the girl only shook her head and frowned up at the men on the battlements. "They are rude, Mithrandir," she protested, causing both her mother and the Wizard to regard her with surprise. "Galadriel would be angry." Her words were said simply and truthfully and both adults shared a look over the child's unusual logic.  
  
"Out of the mouths of babes, indeed." Sam muttered and Gandalf nodded his agreement.  
  
But then all conversation was cut off as a terrible grating sound filled the air and Sam realised nervously that they were opening the gates. She watched as both huge doors were pushed open, allowing them entry. And as they finally passed under the monstrous archway, Sam tilted her head back and stared up at the ageless carvings adorning the stone cupola.  
  
But when she lowered her head she found she didn't know where to look first, there were so many things to stare at and admire. The city was exactly what she had expected it to be inside, and like many others she had seen on her travels through the Stargate. It was busy and bustling, with people coming to and fro in all directions, all with their own business to do and people to see.  
  
As Sam stared in fascination at the many people who were walking about, she noticed with some curiosity that a great number of them were dark haired. Coming from Lorien were everyone was as blonde as the sun, to see some contrast was a pleasant surprise. The only negative outcome she could find from this was that her and Gilraen would stick out like sore thumbs.  
  
With this in mind, she reached up to make sure her hood was secure on top of her head, and did the same with Gilraen, only to find her daughter's quick mind was running along the same tracks as hers when the little girl whispered loudly, "They all look like Pènne and Arwen, Ma!" Sam could have smiled at the displeased tone of her voice but held back. To Gilraen, their two elvish friends were the most beautiful people in the world, and Sam found it quite sweet that she was indignant on their behalves.  
  
"Just their hair, hen." Sam whispered back as she steered Madonna to follow Gandalf's bay mount through the thong of people, many of which were staring up at the Wizard in curiosity, not to mention the woman who traveled with him. But Sam was used to curious people wanting to seem the 'strangers' from distant lands and kept her eyes glued firmly between Madonna's ears, both of which were flicking nervously from the squash of people.  
  
They had reached the second level of the city before anyone came out to meet them. Sam was just leaning forward to give Madonna's neck a reassuring pat, bending a giggling Gilraen along with her, when a hearty voice called out from above them on the stone pathway,  
  
"Hail! Mithrandir!  
  
Sam froze at the voice, distinctly male, and heard the sound of hooves on the cobbles as the rider approached. She was slowly straightening in the saddle, pulling a silent Gilraen up with her, when she heard Gandalf's joyful reply.  
  
"Merry greetings, Faramir! I had hoped to find you here!"  
  
Recognizing the name, Sam let her shoulder's relax and turned her head slowly to take her first glimpse at the younger son of Gondor that Gandalf had told her much about. She found the tall, fair young man instantly, as he was just pulling his horse to a stop beside the Wizard, and was breathing heavily from his obviously hasty ride down through the city to greet his old friend.  
  
It was the broad smile on his handsome face that pushed the last of Sam's doubts aside. After four years hidden away in Lothlórien, Sam wasn't about to trust the first human she set eyes on, even one whom Gandalf was obviously very fond of. But she could tell from his expression alone that there was no deceit within him, or none that he yet knew of. Here was simply a young Lord greeting an old friend after a long absence.  
  
She could also tell he hadn't noticed her yet, for the young man only had eyes for the Grey Wizard and was clasping Gandalf's arm warmly in greeting.  
  
"The Scouts told of your arrival, but I had feared them mistaken!" Faramir cried as he reached up and unconsciously wiped a lock of light brown hair from his brow. His eyes were filled with merry excitement as he gave a quick glance at their surroundings and finally noticed the blonde woman upon the handsome chestnut mare.  
  
His eyes opening wide, Faramir stared at her, wondering who she was and why she was there. It was only after his brain registered her elvish travelling cloak and hood that he realized with a surprised jolt that she was with the Wizard. Silence fell upon the group as the guards with Faramir noticed their Lord's distraction and turned to stare at the woman also. For her part, Sam kept a neutral expression on her face and stared back at the men, her arm unconsciously tightening around Gilraen waist under the cloak, causing the little girl to let out an indignant cry when it became too much to bare.  
  
The effect was instantaneous. Faramir's eyes dropped from Sam's face to her waist and if possible, his eyes grew rounder when Gilraen began to wiggle in annoyance and the cloth fell away, exposing not only her little form, but her head of blonde curls.  
  
"Mama! Ouch!" she cried, pulling away from Sam, which made the woman finally blink and drop her gaze to the girl. Realizing what she was doing, Sam let go instantly and rested a light hand on her daughter's small shoulder as she idly murmured soothing words of apology.  
  
Faramir couldn't help it and let the slow smile break out on his lips at the sight of the little girl with the shining hair. Girl children in the city were mostly seen and not heard, being under their mother's guidance and authority from the day they were born. Young boys were slightly different, as it was they who would protect the walls of the city in the years to come, so special attention was always accorded to them.  
  
But when he realized Gandalf was speaking beside him, Faramir blinked and quickly turned away from the pair, luckily just as the Wizard was making his introductions.  
  
"Faramir of Gondor, may I introduce my dear friend, the Lady Samantha of Lothlórien." Seeing the shocked looks her title had brought to the faces of not just Faramir, but the soldiers surrounding the small group; the Wizard gave a dry laugh. "Samantha had been a delightful companion of mine over the past few years."  
  
As the questions started to build in his mind, Faramir swung down from his horse and walked to short distance that separated him from the blonde woman on the chestnut mare. Coming to stand before her, he gently took hold of the horse's bridle and looked up at her where she sat, silent and still, staring down at him with hooded eyes. The little girl's expression could have matched if it wasn't for the look of blatant curiosity in her eyes as she watched him. All in all, it wasn't hard to see they were mother and daughter.  
  
Sam was torn. Everything in her body was telling her to dismount and greet the young man politely, as not to shame Galadriel and Celeborn. But there was something, a dark shiver in the very bottom of her stomach that kept her on Madonna, her legs squeezing the horse's sides under her woolen travelling skirts, as if ready to bolt at any second. She could tell Madonna could sense her unsettled mood not only by the way the horse was flicking her ears back and forth nervously, but also by the little jumps she was making, while tugging at her bridle that was still in the young Lord's firm grip.  
  
Gilraen, not understanding her mother's frozen demeanor, leaned forward and clumsily patted the mare's neck soothingly while murmuring under her breath, "There, there, silly ninny. Stand still."  
  
Obviously catching her strange words from beside them, Faramir turned to the little girl with an amused grin. "And who might you be, young one?" he asked, causing Gilraen to sit up straight in the saddle and peer down at him in surprise.  
  
"My name is Gilraen Cheyenne O'Neill, sir." she answered promptly.  
  
Flicking his eyebrows up at Sam while trying to hide a laugh, Faramir let go of Madonna and crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. "That is a pretty name, my lady. Some of Gondors greatest maidens once held that name, so you are most fortunate."  
  
Sam kept quite as she listened, oddly touched, as the young man chattered away to her daughter with the gentle, yet calm manner one might use with an adult. Sam felt herself start to relax as she felt whatever uncertainties she had felt for this young man start to creep back into the darkness of her anxious subconscious.  
  
Gilraen was in her element and was peering down at Faramir with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Oh, yes," she answered calmly, sounding much older than her three years. "Mama and Aragorn tell me that all the time."  
  
It was the sound of the Ranger's name that snapped Sam out of her trance and she shot Gandalf a glance of alarm before turning back to Faramir, who if had noted her distraction, wasn't about to comment on it. Smiling demurely down at the man, she asked softly, "If you wouldn't mind, my lord?"..." while pointing to Gilraen to get her message across.  
  
Faramir blinked at her sudden activity and looked slightly blank before the arrival of the Wizard behind him made it clear what she meant. He obligingly moved out of the way and watched, along with his slightly stunned men, as Gandalf the Gray, Herald and Counsel of Kings, reached up and gathered the little girl into his arms, swinging her down from the horse and onto her feet.  
  
Gilraen, glad to be on safe ground once again, proceeded to peer around at the sights of the city with curious eyes, which she could make out through the men's legs. The warm travelling skirts she wore blew around her small body as she stood next to Gandalf, almost swallowed in his gray cloak, her fascinated gaze unable to stay still as she waited for her mother to dismount.  
  
Faramir reached up and patted the striking blaze on Madonna's cinnamon nose just as Sam felt her feet touch the ground. Heaving a slight sigh of relief as she stretched the kinks out of her shoulders, the blonde woman looked automatically for her daughter and relaxed when she found her safe and sound standing in front of Gandalf's knees.  
  
Then, knowing that it was well overdue, she turned to Faramir and lowered herself in a slight curtsey of respectful greeting. "My apologies for my rudeness, my lord." She murmured politely. "I thank you for your kind greetings."  
  
Faramir also, was too well bred to comment any further on her slightly unorthodox manner of the last few minutes. Dipping his head in acknowledgement, he offered her his arm with a smile. "Allow me to accompany you to my father's hall. Having heard of Mithrandir's arrival, he will undoubtedly be surprised to find additional travelers along with him."  
  
Looking down, Sam took Gilraen's upstretched hand in hers, and tucked the other one in the crook of Faramir's arm. And together, the three of them followed the graceful figure of the wizard up through the spiral leveled maze of the city, Faramir's men leading the horses behind them, not that they actually had to bother with Madonna, for she would have followed Sam anywhere without a bridle.  
  
And when the small yet impressive party finally reached the High Court, and Sam found herself staring across at the sweeping grassy lawn, she craned her neck upwards, catching sight of the white and blue banners that blew proudly, thousands of feet in the air above them on the highest arches of the Citadel. Before them was a row of motionless guards, all robed in black, save for their helms, which sprouted white wings of sea-birds from their cheek-guards.  
  
Sam eyed them with interest as they neared them, saw how proudly they held their chins, how straight their backs and knew that finally, they had reached the very heart of Gondor, for on their chests burst the White Tree in all its former glory. They were the guards of Elendil, the last lord, and none wore it now in all Gondor, save the Guards of the Citadel before the Court of the Fountain where the White Tree once had grown.  
  
Looking around, Sam found the White Tree of Gondor, or what was left of it. She had heard the stories from Gandalf, of course, of the heirs of Isildur and kings of old, but to stand here now, witnessing the glory of the city first hand, was something quite different. The doors of the Hall were before them, protected once again by another row of still guards, its tall doors of polished metal gleaming in the sun. Sam knew what lay of their other side, and whom, and forcefully squashed the notion to turn and bolt.  
  
Faramir, noticing her silence, and thinking her merely overcome with the splendor of his father's court, gave her a gentle smile that she did not see, and turned to speak to Gandalf, leaving both Sam and Gilraen by themselves. Mother and daughter were both silent, Sam overcome with what she was seeing, and Gilraen to busy staring up at the tall guards in front of her in fascination to pick up on her mother's odd mood.  
  
But when Sam abruptly moved away from the group, leading her daughter by the hand, Faramir was not the only one to stop and stare at the striking, golden woman in their midst. They all wondered who she was, where she had come from, and what made her walk with the grace and poise of a Queen.  
  
Without speak, Sam lead Gilraen across the soft grass, walking slowly so that her daughter's little legs could keep up, and came to a stop beside the fountain where the dead tree stood, motionless as its protectors, suspended in limbo, but always waiting...waiting....  
  
Waiting for what, Sam did not know. But as she stood there, unable to tear her gaze away from its spidery branches, Gilraen at her side, the rest of their surroundings became nothing but shadows, the only sound she could hear was a slight hum, a pulsing beat that she knew came from the tree itself. She didn't know how long she stood there; it could have been hours or merely minutes, for she wouldn't have known. All she could see was herself, her daughter and the dead silver tree in front of her.  
  
And later on, when she had time to think about it properly, Sam would swear she could feel its pain, its impatience, and its power as she gaze up at it from beside the fountain walls. And she knew, without being told, that it was old, as old as time, and had seen things that people now could only read about, and imagine.  
  
But when she felt a hand on her arm, Sam jerked away as if burned, blinking madly as she finally managed to tear her gaze away from the crying tree and stare up at the person beside her. It was Faramir, and he was alone, the rest of the group still on the path with the guards, yet they were all staring across at her, their eyes wide with speculation. Even Gandalf, who was not bothered easily, was watching her as if he had never seen her before, and his face was a deadly white.  
  
Feeling herself blush, Sam looked away from his thoughtful gaze and found Faramir staring down at her, his eyes hooded; yet filled with a speculative gleam that she did not like at all. And it was only then that she noticed the small hand clasped tightly in her own, and with a start, she looked down at Gilraen, only to find the little girl frozen in place, her eyes huge as she gazed up at the tree.  
  
Feeling a rush of panic, Sam forgot all about Faramir and the men watching her and gracefully fell to her knees before the little girl, her eyes searching over the pale face for any hint of life. Finding only the blank stare of her fair eyes, Sam reached up and cupped the side of Gilraen cubby cheek, giving it a squeeze while she murmured soothing words to snap her out of it, only to be shocked at the frozen feel of her cheek. Running her hands down the girl's arms to grip her small hands, Sam gasped when she found them cold as ice.  
  
She could feel Faramir's eyes drilling into her back, but she ignored it. All her being was concentrated on the little girl in front of her. "Baby?" she whispered loudly to Gilraen in question, but got no response. It was only when she gave the girl a short, yet firm shake that life sprang back into her eyes, and the three-year-old blinked abruptly, taking a huge breath of air.  
  
Running her hands through the silky strands of her daughter's hair, Sam asked in concern, "Sweetheart? Are you okay?" It was then that she felt the figure beside her, and jerking her eyes around, she was startled to find Faramir crouching down, peering into Gilraen little face, his eyes filled with worry.  
  
"Does she suffer?" he asked Sam quickly, and she saw his blue eyes skimming over her daughter's small form, obviously looking for injury.  
  
It was just then that Gilraen blinked and let out a shuddering breath, crying out softly in a frightened voice, "Mother?" as she looked around her with panic filled eyes.  
  
Sam's reaction was instant, and she scooped the little girl up in her arms and stood, encircling the thin little back with a firm, solid grip. But it was the way Gilraen immediately snaked her arms around Sam's neck and buried her face in the soft flow of her mother's golden shoulder that worried Sam the most, and she turned, searching for Gandalf's gaze even as she started to whisper soothing words to the frightened little girl in her arms.  
  
She was relieved to find the Wizard already hurrying towards them, covering a lot of ground even with his staff and billowing cloak. When he reached them he all but ignored Sam and Faramir, who was standing beside Sam, and bent his head instantly towards Gilraen's face, moving a handful of Sam's hair out of the way so he could see the child's face.  
  
The little girl's eyes were squeezed tightly closed and her face was still pale with fright. But Gandalf would not be put off and he gently raised her little head, his eyes peering intently into her face as it did so. Sam wished she knew what he was doing, and why, but couldn't bring herself to speak, her body was still humming slightly from what had just happened.  
  
"Gilraen?" The wizard said lightly, finally succeeding in opening the little girl's eyes, for they fluttered open uncertainly, and peered up at Gandalf.  
  
"Mithrandir?" she whispered, blinking at the mass of gray beard that was inches from her nose. Seeing that it was indeed her wizard, she slowly withdrew one small arm from around her mother's neck and held it out to the old man, letting out a small sigh when he took the small hand in his much larger one and gave it a squeeze.  
  
"The tree scared me," she whispered, resting her cheek on Sam's shoulder, but still gazing up at the wizard. Sam felt herself jerk at her daughter's words, and she knew Faramir noticed, for he shoot her a curious glance, his eyes lingering on her face.  
  
Not wanting him to see what was clearly written all over her face, Sam looked away, flushing, but not quick enough to miss him frown in confusion.  
  
But then Gandalf was there, and leading her by the arm away from the tree and the source of Gilraen's fright.  
  
"Come, Samantha. We have dallied too long as it is, Denethor will grow impatient." He turned to her then as he let her up the steps, Faramir hurrying to catch up with them as the neared the doors. "Are you ready for this?" The question was asked lightly, but Sam could still read the concern in his voice.  
  
Nodding, she shifted Gilraen into a more comfortable position on her hip, noting how the little girl stiffened with the movement and her arms tighten around her neck like a vice. Her lips clenching into a thin line, Sam lifted her head high and followed Gandalf through the doors, ready and waiting for what lay in side....

To be continued in Gondorian Memories, Part 2......coming soon! 


End file.
